


Eight Ways

by monkkeyslut



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkkeyslut/pseuds/monkkeyslut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight different ways to say I love you Fairy Tail style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. act one

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a series of eight one-shots. I got the prompts from the poem by R. McKinley, and each chapter will be a different pairing and will be rated differently.

_1\. Spit it into her voicemail, a little slurred and sounding like the shot whiskey you downed for courage. Feel as ashamed as you do walking into work in last night's clothes. Wake up cringing for days, waiting for her to mention it._

* * *

"Yeah, chill out, Ultear," he hunches his shoulders as he closes his fist around the small lacrima, cutting off the call. Jellal tips the bottle of whiskey back, swallowing another mouthful as he moves toward his inn, deciding he's had enough for tonight.

_Hopefully I get there before Laxus,_  he thinks to himself, stumbling a bit along the cobblestone. The other mage snored as loud as a freight train and while Gajeel tends to sleep on the roof when it gets too much (or disappear to another inn for the night, though Jellal pretends he doesn't notice), and Mirajane snores almost as loudly, and  _Juvia_  can sleep through anything, Jellal  _can't._

He lets out a sigh as he turns another corner, takes another mouthful of whiskey, and then turns the wrong way.

This whole thing, pretending to be Mystogan, was becoming more and more of a hassle. Seeing Erza everyday was difficult enough, but he knows Millianna is here, and not being able to talk to her, to apologize. Apologizing isn't something he does well, but he knows that she deserves it, just like the others do, like Erza did.

And  _Erza._  It seems like each time he's alone she's there, and it was hard enough to lie to her, to step away from her when they almost kissed, but seeing her every day, meeting with her under bridges or behind buildings to talk about the games and Zeref, it's almost too much.

Jellal curses himself as he comes to a stop at Honeybone, but his mind is too hazy and he's feeling reckless, so he moves forward, pushing through the doors and into the main lobby of the inn. It's nearly empty, only a few stragglers from bars around town, thankfully nobody from Fairy Tail is in there, or he'd have to make up an excuse, and he's not really feeling up to it.

On his way up the stairs he takes another swig from his bottle. It's nearing the bottom and Jellal is almost shocked at that. He hadn't realized how much he'd drunk.  _Had_  he drunk most of it? Or…didn't he give some to Gajeel back at the bar? No, that had been Natsu, hadn't it? Fuck, if it had been that one kid—

He comes to a stop in front of the room he knows is Erza's and pauses, grip tightening on the neck of his bottle for a moment, before he swallows back the rest and slumps against the door. Jellal knocks over his shoulder a few times, each harder than the other, but he doesn't hear movement on the other end.

"Just my luck, right? Come to talk to the one person I  _can_  talk to and she's not even here." He knocks his head back against the door, grimacing at the sweat pressing to his skin. This mask bullshit is really getting on his nerves. "But…I guess it's better that you're not here, right?" His words are slurred, but he barrels on.

"You know, I lied about that fiancée thing. I lie about a lot of things, but the fiancée one? That…well that was for your benefit. I mean, what good would being with me do? I'm a fugitive, a murderer, a tyrant. I'm no good, where you're… _all_  good. There isn't an evil bone in your body. So, I'm sorry for lying but I'm not."

Did that make sense? He's not really sure. Maybe he should have taken it easy on that stupid whiskey; it wasn't really doing much good to filter his thoughts.

"I'm sorry that I love you, too, which—wow, sounds awful, doesn't it?" He furrows his brows beneath the cap and rubs the heel of his palms against his eyes. This is too much, he's gotten get back to his own inn before someone in the rooms around him come out and yell at him. "I just—it's not fair to you, and you deserve a lot better. So, I guess that's why I told you I had a fiancée."

With a loud belch, Jellal stands, stretching his back and arms. Turning, he presses a hand to her door, digging his fingers into the smooth wood. "I'm sorry I've got to be drunk to tell you, Erza."

_She's not even in there,_  he tells himself, feeling shame crawl up his gut. He's a coward, he's always known that. It's just sad that he's finally admitting to it now.

On his way down the stairs, he passes a stumbling Gray and Lucy, and a tired-looking Natsu. "Heyyyy," Lucy laughs, grabbing his at sleeve. "Were you with  _Erza~?_ " She winks at him, then at Natsu when he tries to tug her up the stairs, an annoyed look on his face.

"Uh—no," Jellal says, watching the three mages walk toward their room. "She wasn't in there, anyway."

"Huh?" Gray's usually droopy eyes are wide and glassy. "Yesheish," he says all in one breath, and it takes a minute for this to settle in his mind.

_Yesheish. Yes she is. **Yes she is.**_

"She never answered—" he loses his footing on the last step, and Gray lets out a loud laugh.

"She mighta been sleepin'."

_Fuck._

* * *

The next day, Mirajane wakes them all bright and early, nearly tearing the blinds down as she throws them open with a sunny smile on her face.

Jellal glares at her and holds his tongue when she flings away the pillow he throws her way. He'd been up most of the night heaving the contents of his stomach in the toilet and regretting ever life choice he'd ever made, including the stupid,  _stupid_  one he'd made the night before.

Also, telling Mirajane in his drunken haze hadn't helped either, because she'd been the one patting his back all night. How was she even so dam  _cheery?"_

"—my pillow and I'll knock you into next week,  _Mirajane,"_  Laxus snarls from his bed across the room, burrowed beneath blankets and multiple pillows.

_That looks like a good idea,_  Jellal thinks, tugging the covers higher over his head, dreading the day.

* * *

He's not entirely surprised that she acts completely normal.

He'd caught her eye across the stadium, and she'd offered the same grin she usually did, and even afterward, when they'd met under the bridge to discuss how the day went she'd acted fine, like nothing had even happened.

It doesn't stop the shame he feels, or the annoyance that if she  _had_  heard something, why she hadn't reacted, or done something. Jellal thinks he'd have liked it if she beat him to a pulp, or decided never to speak to him again. It'd definitely be easier.

But everything is normal and, he supposes, this is his punishment.


	2. Act Two

_2\. Sigh it into her mouth, wedged in between teeth and tongues. Don't even let your lips move when you say it, ever so lightly, into the air. Maybe it was just an exhalation of ecstasy._

* * *

She knows he's home when the front door slams shut. That or burglars, but she suspects they'd be smart enough to be quiet. So it's not a surprise when she sees a shadow pass by the curtain, or when he pulls his shirt over his head, and especially not when he pulls the shower curtain open.

It  _is_  a surprise to see the relief on his face.

Levy half laughs, half screeches as she's pulled from the shower, naked body pressed against an equally naked chest. "Hiya," she giggles, stretching on her toes to kiss her boyfriend. "That wasn't a very long mission."

"Yeah fuckin' right," Gajeel growls, spinning and lifting her so she's sitting on the narrow edge of the sink. She squirms until she's comfortable, and then wraps her legs around him, feeling his cock pressing against her. "Longest mission in a long time."

It  _had_ been pretty long, but Levy hadn't minded. She'd gotten a lot of housework done: Lucy had helped her unpack the boxes in the back room that had been there for nearly a year, and she'd been able to spend more time with Jet and Droy. But she still missed him, and considering the fierce way he was holding and kissing her now, Levy suspects he missed her as well.

"What's with you?" She moans when he bites on her collarbone. "It's like you weren't expecting me to be here."

He only pauses for a second, but it's enough for Levy to notice, and she pulls his face up to meet hers, eyes searching his face for whatever is wrong. "What happened?"

"Some stupid magic the guy had, fucked with my head," he mutters, shaking his head and kissing her again. "No worries."

Levy wants to talk about it more, but it can be saved for later. Much,  _much later,_  she thinks, squealing as he brings her back into the bedroom, tossing her onto the bed before retreating back into the washroom to turn off the shower.

She has just enough time to get comfortable before he's over her again, pressing kisses to her jaw, her chest, her mouth. He bites and licks while his fingers drift lower and lower. "I missed you," she tells him; curling her fingers into his hair as his mouth makes quick work of her.

She can  _feel_  him smirk against her, and it shouldn't be as sexy as it is, but  _gods_  it is, and when he looks up at her through his lashes, it's enough to make her moan, back arching off the bed.

Gajeel crawls up to her, settling himself over top of her, kissing her senseless. "I missed ya too, shrimp."

Something warm settles in her stomach and she kisses him deeper, sliding her tongue along his, sucking it into her mouth. She's glad he can be like this with her: honest and sweet. It's a difference from when they're around others. In their home, their  _bed_ , she thinks he feels safer, like he doesn't have to compete with anyone for her attention, her attraction. She is his and he is hers and it's perfect.

They kiss for a while and Levy's hands drift along his chest and back, over any skin she can reach. She feels the rough scars, the smooth skin, the callouses on his hands as he curls them around her waist.

Levy has mapped his skin before, the same way he has to hers, and she's kissed and licked every inch of it, but it never ceases to amaze her how many  _scars_  he has. For someone so strong, so fierce, to have scars like this, it makes her wonder what else is out there. It makes her angry that someone would do this to him.

She'd told him that once in the early hours between morning and night, and his hand had drifted across her stomach, her wrists, and she knew what he had been thinking about.

When he'd attacked her, Levy had hoped that her guild would do them justice, would put the stupid dragonslayer who hurt her and her team in his place, and even after they did it did little to soothe her. When he'd saved her from Laxus, when he'd offered to be her partner in the S Class Exam, that had been a changing point, and while what he did was awful, Levy knew that he'd been following orders, that he'd been a different person.

He's inside her then, and Levy shouts, curling her body into his as his hips snap to meet hers. " _Gajeel,"_  she breathes, eyes shut and mouth open against his, and if she didn't know better she'd think he'd just said—

His eyes are closed when she opens hers, mouth now moving against her jaw.

Levy pushes her stupid thoughts to the back of her mind and groans when he hits the right spot. She'll come back to that later.


	3. Act Three

_3\. Buy her flowers. Buy her chocolate. Buy her a teddy bear, because that's what every romantic comedy has taught you. Take her out to a nice restaurant where neither of you feel comfortable and spend the whole night clearing your throat and tugging at your tie. Feel like your actions are more suited to a proposal than the simple confession of something you've always known._

* * *

Bisca meets Alzack at the restaurant because he's being  _weird_  and who knows how early he'd show up at her place.

The restaurant is one of the nicer ones in town, and as she walks into the large place, Bisca is amazed at how Al managed to snag a reservation. Hell, he must have gotten them months ago, because there was _nowhere_  to sit, and it must have cost a fortune, which explains why they've been on three big missions in the last five months, but—

He waves at her from a table, and Bisca tells the hostess her name, and then walks toward Al without another glance at the hostess. She hears a grumble behind her, but she's too distracted by Al's state of  _dress_ to pay much attention. Why is he so dressed up? Was it their anniversary—no, no that's not right because the first time they ever partnered was in May and it was August so…?

"Hey," he smiles at her, and Bisca returns it hesitantly, sweeping her bangs away from her face.

"You look…nice," she adds carefully, sitting across from him. He's way too damn dressed up and she feels totally out of place. This is the kind of thing Lucy was good at; damn it, and she and the others were at the stupid S Class exam.

"You too," he leans forward, pushing a menu toward her. But she  _doesn't_  look nice. She's wearing the usual and— _stop thinking into it so much, dammit Bisca!_  "Thanks."

They continue on for a while, talking about who they think will win the exam (Bisca personally thinks Natsu will, only because he's got lady luck on his side and usually ends up winning  _everything,_  while Alzack thinks Juvia will, if only to prove she's strong enough to date Gray), and they talk about missions.

And then someone around them gets engaged and Bisca feels the blood drain from her face.

Al was being weird, which would be totally fine if they were around other people, but when they're around  _each other_  they're never awkward, and he's way dressed up and sweating a little around the hair line and  _is this a proposal?!_

"Ah—Bisca?" He leans forward, hand outstretched, and all she can think is that  _they're so young_  and she really  _does_  like him, but his hand doesn't have a box in it, nor does it grab her own. Instead, he swipes his thumb around the edge of her lip and grins sheepishly, "Lipstick."

"I—you— _damn it!_  Al this is  _weird."_

His eyes widen and he sits back in his chair. It's almost funny how fast he does it, but Bisca is so not in the joking mood. What's this all  _about?_ He draws his lips between his teeth, and she recognizes the nervous gesture almost immediately, then feels guilty because she's being rude. He's probably just trying to take her out somewhere nice to be  _friendly._  It's not like he's got a crush on her, who would after having to share countless hotel rooms with her? She was cocky and sometimes a tease and her hair was  _green_ , not a pretty blonde like Lucy's or bright like Erza's or even soft like Levy's. She was just putting her foot in her mouth like usual—

"I'm sorry, Bisca. I—I just thought that well..." he clears his throat and looks around. Bisca can immediately see the change in his posture, the way his shoulders tighten and straighten, or how his eyes sharpen like he's found a target. Except  _she_  is the target, and it's one thing seeing it from the side.

"I was hoping this could be like our first date, but I see I should have  _told_  you this beforehand. Maybe next time it can be different."

D-date? This was a date? No way in hell was this a date! Boys were supposed to  _ask_ , to make it romantic and—

_And this is your style. Would you have liked it if he'd stood on a table at the guild and asked?_  Which, okay valid point. If he did that then everyone would be pestering her or spying on her. And Al knew she'd hate that—

"This is a pretty good first date, Al, no worries." She smiles and lifts her glass, sure that her cheeks are as red as his. "To us," she murmurs, clinking her glass against his. She can see him holding something back and she's almost sure she knows what it is, but decides that she'll leave it for another day.

"To us," Al repeats, grinning, and okay, this is good.


	4. Act Four

_4._ _Whisper it into her hair in the middle of the night, after you’ve counted the space between her breaths and are certain she’s asleep. Shut your eyes quickly when she shifts toward you in askance. Maybe you were just sleep whispering._

* * *

They stop back at the guild before heading home, just to check in with everyone.

It’s late, but it hasn’t stopped their fellow guild members from partying, and Natsu grins when Levy walks toward them, Gajeel in tow. “You’re back!”

“Yeah,” Lucy smiles, embracing her friend. Natsu can hear the exhaustion in her voice, can see it in the way she leans against Levy, and decides to make it an early night for the both of them. Happy has already gone over to Carla and Lily, so it’ll just be the two of them, something that would usually make Natsu’s blood hot, but with Lucy so worn out nothing just collapsing onto bed would happen tonight.

Maybe tomorrow.

“Runnin’ Blondie pretty low, aren’t ya?” Gajeel smirks, raising a studded brow as he watches his girlfriend talk with Natsu’s.

Natsu punches him, but there isn’t any force behind it. “Nah, the mission wore her out. There was a celestial spirit mage that was pretty tough; she used up a lot of her magic.” But she’d been brilliant, her eyes shining with something ethereal, and the way she’d grinned when Virgo would take down another spirit, or her whip cracked against the other mage had made Natsu pretty happy.

“But you’re one to talk,” he snaps when Gajeel gives him a look. “If you mark Levy anymore she’ll be a big blue and purple  _spot._ ”

This only encourages the iron dragon slayer. He grins and drags Levy away, and Natsu watches at amused smile break across Lucy’s face. “Bye Levy!”

They spend a half hour going around the guild, but after being told by the  _fourth_  person that he should let Lucy sleep once in a while, he decides to call it a night.

It’s a quiet walk home, the only sounds are those from taverns farther into the city and the river rushing beside them. Lucy opts for walking beside him instead of along the edge, and Natsu really notices this time how tired she is. “Still not recovered?”

“Not quite,” she mumbles through a yawn, curling her warm fingers through his. “I still have to shower, too…”

“Ah, you can wait until the morning. I don’t mind if ya stink,” he tells her, putting his nose to her hair. She does smell a bit like sweat, but overall she smells like  _her._  Cherries and soap and something else that Natsu can never name.

“I  _do_  mind,” she snaps, though there isn’t any heat. “You stink too.”

“We can take a bath together!” Natsu laughs, watching as her cheeks turn a dark red and she squeezes her eyes shut.

“…you’ll bring me to bed if I fall asleep?”

He laughs at the absurdity of leaving her in the bath and ruffles her hair, inhaling as her scent is thrown into the air. “Obviously, Luce.”

* * *

By the time they’re washed and ready to sleep, Lucy is nearly delusional, talking to Happy even though he isn’t there, and Natsu would find it funny if he weren’t so tired himself. “C’mon, Luce, bed.”

“Okaaay,” she sighs, crawling inot the bed, curling into a ball on her side, while Natsu slides in behind her, pressing himself against her back.

“You should really just take this off,” he jokes, pulling at her shirt. She usually gets so hot during the night with him beside her and the thick comforter over her that she’d started getting up in the middle of the night to take it off. When she doesn’t reply, Natsu realizes she’s fallen asleep and decides not to worry about it, instead dropping his head down next to hers.

Their bed smells like them now, a mixture of their scents that sometimes makes him dizzy. Thinking back to when she’d first joined the guild, he’d never thought that the whiny girl would ever be the person he chose to share his life with, but now he can’t imagine her  _not_  being in it.

“I love you, Lucy,” he breathes into her hair. Natsu feels her shift against him and he holds his breath, but she merely snores, and Natsu relaxes.

He falls asleep to Lucy’s soft breaths.


	5. Act Five

_5\. Blurt it out in the middle of an impromptu dance party in the kitchen, as clumsy as your two left feet. When time seems to freeze, hastily tack on “in that shirt” or “when you make your award-winning meatballs” or, if you are feeling particularly brave, “when we do this.” Resume dancing and pretend you don’t feel her eyes on you the rest of the night._

* * *

It’s when they’re fourteen that he says it.

Happy is floating around their tiny house, beating his wings to try and go _faster_ while the two of them cheer him on, shouting and throwing their fists into the air. They’re laughing, chests hurting from the lack of air, but it’s funny and they can’t stop.

Finally, after falling onto his bed of blankets that Lisanna had managed to get from somewhere (Natsu suspects Gildarts, or maybe Gramps, but she’s a really good secret keeper and won’t tell him, dang it!), Lisanna falls back too, holding her stomach as she sucks in breath after breath. “This is so much fun!”

“Yeah,” Natsu agrees, turning to look at her and he smiles when he notices she’s got hay in her hair, then another round of laughter comes about and he can’t stop again. Lisanna is shoving at him, pushing and tugging him from the house (“You’ll wake Happy!”) and it’s not until they’re far enough away that Lisanna collapses over top him, giggling into his shoulder.

“I love you,” the words are out of his mouth before he has a chance to think. Lisanna has stopped giggling, and she raises her face from his shoulder, eyes boring into his and—

“I mean, I love it when you laugh like that. It’s uh…pretty.”

He feels bad because while it’s not a lie, it’s also not the entire truth, but he figures he’ll have plenty of time to figure out stuff like that when he’s older.

Lisanna helps him to his feet, and then he spots Mirajane and Elfman walking toward them.

“Lisanna, we got a mission!”


	6. Act Six

  1. Write her a letter in which the amount of circumnavigating and angst could rival Mr. Darcy’s. Debate where to leave it all day – on her pillow? In her coat pocket? Throw it away in frustration, conveniently leaving it face up in the trashcan, her name scrawled on the front in your sloppy handwriting. Let her wonder if you meant it.



* * *

 

 

Romeo is about to go shove his flaming foot down his father’s throat when Wendy waves at him from where she’d just entered the guild. Hastily, he pushes the pen and paper he’d been using down the table, flipping it over to the blank side. Wendy comes up to him a few moments later, smile on her face. “Hi!”

“H-hey, Wendy,” he clears his throat, glancing around the guild for any signs of his father. When he doesn’t find him, Romeo relaxes. “You’re alone today?”

The blue haired girl nods, sliding onto the bench across from him. “Yes, Carla is with Lily and Happy and…well I don’t exactly know where everyone else.” She offers him a shy smile and looks around the guild. Romeo allows himself to stare at her for a few moments, taking in the way she’d grown since coming back from Tenrou. She doesn’t look older but she _seems_ older, and she is growing a bit. He’s older than her now, and while he couldn’t really admire her beauty when he was younger, he certainly could now.

And to top it all off, she was growing _breasts._

Romeo instantly shook himself, drawing her attention again. He was _way_ too much like his father sometimes. And speaking of his father…

His gaze darts to the paper and pen lying a few feet away, the failed love letter he had been planning to give to Wendy. He’s thankful she hadn’t seen it yet, though he figures even if she had she wouldn’t look at it without his permission.

“I was wondering,” she begins timidly, fingers wiggling in the air as she looks anywhere but at him. Romeo thinks it’s weird that she’s like that, but says nothing. It’s kind of cute, anyway. “Did you want to go to the park?”

Her face is almost as red as Erza’s hair when she says it. Something coils in the bottom of his stomach and he finds himself saying yes, standing and offering her his arm like his dad told him to, and then they’re off, blushing and forgetting about that letter.

* * *

 

Romeo had had to go home to work on some school work, which is how Wendy had ended up back at the guild, eating soup that Mira made with Gajeel on her right and Natsu on her left.

“How was your date?” Mira asks, a knowing smile lighting up her face as she wipes glasses down. In her peripherals, Wendy notices both Gajeel and Natsu pause for a moment, before spooning more soup into their mouths, though she can tell they’re listening.

“I-it wasn’t a d-date, Mira!”

The elder mage hums at her, and then pulls a piece of paper from her apron pocket, placing it on the table in front of Wendy. “Well, this is for you, maybe you have another admirer.” She winks and walks away, leaving Wendy stammering.

The letter has her name written across it in, scrawled messily, and she can see through the thin paper that there are many lines on the inside.

Maybe…maybe she’ll open it later, she decides, grabbing it and stuffing it into her bag, ignoring both Gajeel and Natsu’s looks, and the distinct sounds of knuckles cracking. 


	7. Act Seven

_7\. Wait until something terrible has happened and you can’t not tell her anymore. Wait until she almost gets hit by a car crossing Wabash against the light and after you are done cursing at the shit-for-brains cab drivers in this city; realize you are actually just terrified of living without her. Tell her with your hands shaking._

 

* * *

 

She steps in front of him in the last second, and for several long moments, all Gray can see is the bright crimson of blood as it splatters his eyes and face. Juvia makes a sound that is torn between a groan and a scream and falls to the ground beside him, her head hitting the stones sharply.

Around him, Lucy cries out, and Wendy’s already running over, but Gray can’t understand what’s happening. Why was she bleeding? Wasn’t—her body was made of water, she’d said. SO why was there blood, and why wasn’t she healing?

The smell of burnt flesh stings his nose and makes him nauseas. Of course, the answer was right in front of him. What happened when you mixed water and lightning?

Juvia must have known that, Gray thinks wilding, watching as Wendy drops to her knees in front of him, moving Juvia until she is on her back, gasping up at the sky, though her blue eyes watch him. She must have known that would be a killing blow, something she couldn’t immediately heal from, and yet she _did it anyway._

“—ay! _Gray!”_ Lucy grabs hold of his face, pinching it between her fingers as she shouts in his face. He tries to listen, but he can’t take his eyes off Juvia, can’t stop seeing the thin trickle of blood as it falls from the corner of his mouth. “You have to let go of her! Wendy can’t do anything until you move!”

He turns to the Sky Dragon, sees the fear in her eyes, then to Lucy, and finally to Juvia, who offers him a small, bloodstained smile. “Is Gray—“ the cough she makes is wet and gurgling, her eyelids slipping, “alright?”

Something tightens around his hand and he looks down, finding himself half over her legs, clutching her hand tightly in his own. That’s what Lucy meant, he thinks, slipping his fingers from hers and watching the smile fall from her face. “I’m fine, you’ll be fine too, Juvia.”

He nods to Lucy, to Wendy, gives Juvia one last glance, and Gray stands, something dangerous and furious boiling in his gut. He’ll kill for this, he thinks.

* * *

 

The infirmary is always freezing cold; at least that’s what Natsu says as Wendy bandages a cut on Lucy’s thigh. Gray wants to tell the stupid fire head to shut up, to be courteous to the other people in the infirmary, but Lucy’s got it covered, shooting him a fierce glare that renders the dragon silent.

Juvia is pale, skin cold, and Gray pulls off his sweater, draping it over the top half of her body, hoping it does a little too warm her up. The blankets in the room are too thin, he’ll have to mention it to Mira.

“She’ll be okay, you know. Just needs some rest.” Wendy peeks under the covers to look at Juvia’s own bandages, and Gray looks away, remembering the smell of burning flesh and the way half her dress had burned away when the lightning hit her.

“Thank you, Wendy,” he replies, offering the girl a nod. She smiles back and touches his shoulder as she leaves, and then they’re alone.

He hadn’t killed the dark mage who had hit her; Gajeel had done that and then some. If he weren’t so obsessed with Levy, Gray would have assumed he had a thing for Juvia. It makes him irrationally jealous, then guilty, because it’s not fair that he’s jealous of Gajeel. Hell, it’s not fair that he’s jealous of anyone. Despite accepting his feelings for her, Gray hadn’t acted on them yet. He wasn’t like Natsu, things didn’t just fall into his lap like Lucy had, and his romance wasn’t something like Erza and Jellal’s. This was different.

“You’re so stupid,” he brushes his fingers over Juvia’s forehead, then along her cheek, her chin. Gray considers tracing her face, but it’s too lame and he pulls his hand away, curling his fingers with hers instead. “Why would you jump in front of me like that?”

“B-because I love Gray-sama, and I did not want him to be hurt,” Juvia breathes, eyelashes fluttering open. Gray isn’t surprised to see her awake, but he is annoyed that she is.

“You should be asleep. This would be much _easier_ if you were asleep,” he mutters, looking anywhere but her face. “I appreciate it, I really do, but…but don’t do something like that again, okay?”

“But—but Gray-sama,” she begins, coughing a bit as she attempts to sit up. She quickly thinks better of it and lays back, eyes searching his face.

“I don’t want to lose anyone precious to me, ya hear?” He snaps, slumping in his chair. “Especially not the people I love.” He can see that she’s crying, but he can also see the smile on her face, making her look a lot better than she had six hours ago.

“I do it for the people _I_ love, you know.”

“Yeah,” Gray chuckles, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “I know.”


	8. Act Eight

_8\. Say it deliberately, your tongue a springboard for every syllable. Over coffee, brushing your teeth side-by-side, as you turn off the light to go to sleep – it doesn’t matter where. Do not adorn it with extra words like “I think” or “I might.” Do not sigh heavily as if admitting it were a burden instead of the most joyous thing you’ve ever done. Look her in the eyes and pray, heart thumping wildly, that she will turn to you and say, “I love you too.”_

* * *

 

“You don’t die when you come near me,” is the first thing this boy on her island tells her, and Mavis frowns.

“I’m already dead, silly,” she laughs, dropping to her knees to be eye level with him. “Why _do_ things die around you?”

The boy shrugs his shoulder, staring at her with dark eyes.

“Are you lonely?” Mavis sits fully now, tucking her skirt between her legs and leaning forward, elbows propped up on her knees. “I can stay with you if you’d like.”

Raising his eyes, the boy gives her something like a smile, holding his hand to her. “I would like that very much. I am Zeref.”

Oh, she thinks distantly, shaking his hand and feeling both warmth and cold pulse up her arm, something she hasn’t felt since she was alive. I’m in big trouble.

* * *

“This is you, then?”

“Just bones, now. Not me anymore.” Mavis shrugs, but she hates being here, being surrounded by these stones, being surrounded by _her._ She remembers too much when she’s here and it makes her sad.

“How old were you?”

Mavis tugs at her dress, “I had turned nineteen three days after I died.”

Zeref turns to look at her, dark eyes swimming with things Mavis doesn’t understand, “I’ve never felt the pull of death.”

“You’re lucky then,” Mavis hops down from a boulder and comes toward him. His warms envelopes her when she gets close enough, and she tugs at his wrist. “You’re not stuck anywhere.”

His smile is soft and beautiful, and Mavis remembers the terrible stories of the dark wizard Zeref, remembers the way her Nan would get that dark look in her eye as she spoke about him, or the way Purehito got that strange glint in his eye whenever someone would bring the name up.

“I do not think I would mind staying here.”

Mavis beams.

* * *

“There is a boy in your guild.” Zeref tells her, eyes closed, legs crossed. Mavis, bored, mimics him, peeking her eye open.

“Many, actually.”

“Natsu.”

“Ah,” she nods, opening both eyes now. She remembers one of the members that had taken the S Class Exam a few years back had mentioned something about Natsu. “A dragonslayer, I think. Strong.”

“Strong enough to kill me,” Zeref has his eyes open now, mouth set. “I think I’ll be dying very soon.”

Mavis sighs, flopping onto her back, the ground knocking the breath out of her. “I truly wish you weren’t.”

Zeref, if he hears her, says nothing.

* * *

“If I wake up—if the evil part of me _wakes_ Mavis, I could—“

“Kill me?” She challenges, feeling her magic crackling through the trees, behind her eyes. It’s still so powerful, even after all this time. “I’m dead, you wouldn’t have to worry—“

“Natsu is coming, I can sense his magic the same way you can sense the magic of your guild as it crosses the sea. Mavis, I have to die.”

He comes close to her, clutching her arms and shaking her like a doll. “Why do you not want me to die?”

Mavis feels the hot flow of tears down her cheeks, and she looks away, face flushed with irritation. “What if you get sick of this place? Of—of,” _of me,_ she thinks, biting her lip.

“Silly girl,” he ruffles her hair, winds his fingers through it, kisses her. “Silly, silly girl.”

She is too flustered to kick him for calling her silly.

* * *

The first time they lie together is the last, and Mavis decides she loves him very much.

He tells her things are ending and he’ll soon be leaving. He breathes it into her hair when they watch the sun from the cliffs. The air is cool, and Mavis is still so surprised at the feelings that she keeps getting back; warmth from his hands as they press into her body while the moon is bright overhead, cold when they decide to swim at dusk.

“So what do we do?” She asks, but when she looks at him she _knows,_ and she blushes because she died before she got this chance. She died before she had the chance to be with someone, to love someone. Maybe this is the gods’ way of giving her another chance.

“Only if you want to,” he tells her minutes—or hours, maybe—later, their bodies flush and bare against one another, chests rising and falling erratically, and if her heart still beat she thinks it would be beating out of her skin.

She wants to, so she kisses him.

* * *

Her guild comes to the island three days later, and she doesn’t see him for a very long time after that.

* * *

It seems like forever, but then he’s there, the same as her, and Mavis can feel again. “You came back.”

“Of course, silly girl.” He laughs and kisses her, pulls her as close as he can. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she presses her warm face to his shirt and tightens her arms around him.

 


End file.
